


Petals ‘Twixt My Teeth

by RogueSapphic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: But mostly angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Pining, no kill your gays trope here, one-sided implied rowan/bill, worried friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17918021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueSapphic/pseuds/RogueSapphic
Summary: Hanahaki au. Shiri Sibylline has been crushing on Rowan for years, but it comes to a head in fourth year when Shiri starts coughing up flowers. She tries to keep it secret but nothing stays secret forever and she’s only getting worse.





	Petals ‘Twixt My Teeth

She’s heard stories. Everyone’s heard stories; though there’s few who’ve ever seen it, let alone experienced it. Tales of people coughing up flowers until they fell, whether it be in love or death. People call it a curse. Of course they do, witches and wizards call everything curses, but this especially is.

Entering Hogwarts, such a thing is so far from Shiri’s mind. Her brothers are missing, her parents are dead, there are vaults holding the secrets to Jacob’s whereabouts. So there are more important things to worry about than flowers in her lungs. Besides, it’s rare, why would it happen to her?

 

There’s a sparkle in Rowan’s eyes as she talks about Bill Weasley, about his accomplishments and his attractiveness. Rowan gushes and flutters and stumbles to a stop when she realises how long she’s been talking. It’s a quick apology and then she’s turning back to her book. Shiri pretends her throat isn’t dry, like it doesn’t feel like swallowing glass. A glance at the clock on the common room wall and Rowan’s bouncing to her feet, cheerily talking about a study ‘date’ with Bill. She almost skips out of the room.

 

Shiri frowns slightly, rubs her throat, then coughs. A petal falls from between her lips. It floats and hit the page of her charms textbook. Pink and small as a fingernail. Her stomach drops. She slams the books closed, not meeting the eyes of any of her housemates who look up at the sudden noise.

 

She thinks the flowers will go away. Or just stop. They don’t.

 

Rowan fawns over Bill. Shiri can feel petals in the back of her throat, catching on her teeth and palate. She drowns them back with water or juice or whatever’s closest.

 

They don’t stop growing. She coughs up a full flower and pries the damp thing from her mouth. Now she can tell what kind it is. Hawthorn. Time and time again, she finds herself tossing the flowers in common room fireplace. Easier to destroy them than to try and hide them.

 

Tonks flings a pillow at her head early one morning. Penny and Rowan are both already awake too. All three wear frowns. Tonks’ annoyed, Penny’s tired, Rowan’s concerned. Tonks complains about her snoring. She’s never snored before. It’s been four years so why now? Shiri just apologises.

 

She’s coughing up more flowers by the day. Not only hawthorn petals, but clover blossoms too. They scratch up her throat and make her taste copper. Her breathing’s like a death rattle. Her eye circles are dark and deep from her sleeping pattern messed up. She feels like she can’t get enough air.

 

Quickly it’s not just hawthorn flowers. This time it’s a clover blossom, but it’s still connected to a stem protruding from deep in her throat. She shoves her fingers in her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, then pinches the stem off as far back as she can reach. She heaves on the verge of vomiting and crushes the spit-damp flower in her hand.

 

Penny finds out first. She catches Shiri in one of the greenhouses, choking up clover and hawthorn flowers. She begs, tears on her face, for Penny to not tell anyone.

 

Penny doesn’t need to say anything. Shiri passes out in flying class. Luckily she was only a few feet off the ground. There’s a patch of clovers growing in the back of her throat, blossoms peeking out from her lips. It gets around the school quick.

 

Shiri wakes up in the medical wing with Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout standing over her. The flowers have been cut. Her throat feels scratched and she can taste blood and plant matter on her tongue. It’s hard to breathe and every breath comes out rattling. It’s a curse but they don’t have an actual counter-curse nor an antidote for it. They ask question after question. How long it’s been going on? Who else knows? Has she talked to anyone? Confessed to anyone?

“We can remove the flowers, but it’ll get rid of the feelings for whoever is causing this.“

“No.”

“Miss Sibylline, I-“

“No. I don’t want that.”

 

All her friends come to visit her. Penny looks lovely even when she’s ragged, talking about how she’s been staying up reading all kinds of potion books to think up a cure. Tonks and Tulip bring in bunches of pranks and toys from Zonko’s. Ben’s teary and panicking, this doesn’t happen in the muggle world. Charlie brings her a big book of dragons for her to borrow; ‘borrow’ because he’s determined she’ll survive this. Bill brings her one of his old Weasley sweaters, it’s too big for her but it’s cozy. She’s been feeling cold lately. Barnaby smuggles in her pet rat with Rowan’s help. Even Merula comes to see her and for once she doesn’t say anything awful. She even seems rather … upset. When Rowan comes in, she refuses to leave Shiri’s side. She argues with Pomfrey and piles up books on hanahaki disease and counter-curses and potions and magical flora. She promises to find a cure, no matter what it takes.

 

Shiri gets worse. The flowers come up bloody. Pomfrey cuts the flowers and Shiri coughs up blood and Rowan pours over books. Day in and day out. She’s on a liquid diet and when she sleeps, she snores and wakes up choking on petals. Rowan rubs her back and holds her hair back as she throws up blood and blossoms.

 

Shiri gets worse. Rowan pours over books for days on end without sleep. Sometimes in the middle of the night, when Shiri wakes up to hack up petals, Rowan is slumped uncomfortably in her chair over a book in her lap. When she wakes from almost falling off her chair, Shiri begs her to go get some sleep. Rowan refuses and casts lumos and starts reading again. Shiri falls asleep hours later to Rowan constantly murmuring sentences.

 

Tonks drags Rowan out one day to finally shower and get some rest in a real bed. In promise to get her to leave, Penny says she’ll stay with Shiri.

“Who is it?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice is small and weak.

“Who you like. People say that’s how you cure it, to confess to the person you like. So … who is it?”

Shiri doesn’t say anything.

“It’s Rowan, isn’t it?”

Still no answer, but Shiri’s shoulders tremble. Penny sighs.

“You should tell her. Quickly.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re dying, Shiri.”

“I know.”

 

One night Rowan climbs up into the bed with Shiri. It’s squishy and the bed’s too small and they’re tangled together, gripping one another to make sure neither falls off. They lie on their sides, staring at each other. It’s quiet for a long time, then Rowan’s shaking. Tears glint in her eyes and she throws an arm around Shiri, dragging her into a tight hug, pressing her face into the clammy crook of Shiri’s neck.

“I don’t want you to die, Shiri, you’re my best friend,” she whimpers. Shiri swallows thickly, tears filling her own eyes. “I’ve read so many books but I don’t know how to fix you.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

Another pause, it’s half quiet and half Rowan sniffling. Shiri leans her chin atop the crown of Rowan’s head. She can feel petals and stems growing against her teeth.

“I love you, Rowan.”

The flowers don’t stop growing. Rowan’s snores break the quiet. Shiri sighs, closing her eyes and grinding blossoms between her teeth.

 

The flowers aren’t just in her lungs anymore. It spreads. Flowers poke out from under her fingernails, from the scar up her forehead and the scrapes on her hand and the curved scar on her knee. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe every minute. Rowan still sits at her side, gripping her hand so hard Shiri thinks her bones will break.

Shiri’s eyes close, breathing shallow.

Rowan leans her forehead on Shiri’s hand. Her shoulders shake with sobs. She says something, but Shiri can’t hear it, lost in her own thoughts of what will come next.

She draws in a shaking breath. Perhaps her last. Then she takes another. One of the growing bunches of flora snaps from her lips, falling onto the pillow beside her head. Her eyes flicker open, nose scrunching as she reaches her free hand up to her lips. The flowers come away easily, albeit chokingly as the stems pull from her throat.

Rowan looks up, tears spilling down her confused face. Shiri’s got a handful of hawthorn and clover blossoms, her own face painted in an expression of confusion.

Suddenly Rowan’s face lights up and Shiri smiles weakly in return, tears spilling down her own cheeks. Rowan releases her hand to immediately grab Shiri’s face, pulling her into a messy trembling kiss.

As they part, they shakily laugh, gripping each other tightly as they lean their foreheads together.

**Author's Note:**

> technically an unfinished work. i may extend it at a later date, but for now, this is it.


End file.
